


A Fundamental Matter of Give and Take

by psychi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Light Bondage, M/M, Sex With People Who Might Be Hallucinations, mindfucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-08
Updated: 2011-12-08
Packaged: 2017-10-27 02:07:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/290487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychi/pseuds/psychi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucifer wants Sam to stop ignoring him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Fundamental Matter of Give and Take

“I don’t like you ignoring me,” Lucifer tells Sam.  He’s sitting on one of the cheap, laminate hotel chairs while Sam relaxes on his already made-up bed in the light of the early morning.  Dean snores lightly in the other bed, passed out from staying up too late and drinking too much.

“Sam!” Lucifer snaps.

Sam presses a sharp nail to the scarred tissue of his left hand.  Lucifer jumps up, crosses the tiny room, grabs both Sam’s hands, and wrestles them apart even as he climbs on top of him.

“What are you doing?” Sam asks in alarm, shifting backwards but unable to escape as Lucifer sits firmly down on him and pins his arms back against the headboard.  It’s been a while since his hallucination’s gotten this physical with him.  Sam struggles uselessly, careful not to make too much noise and wake his brother up.  Lucifer uses the index and middle finger of the hand pinning Sam’s scarred hand to gently caress the raised pattern on the palm.  “Stop it,” Sam hisses.

Lucifer shifts on his lap and smiles indulgently.  He leans in further to Sam’s space, phantom breath ghosting over his face.  “How much do you really remember about our time together Sam?  It wasn’t all pain and torture.”

Lucifer’s skin is bracingly cold.  

Sam feels himself start to burn from the inside out.  He suddenly remembers in a flash of sense memory how that coolness always felt like such a relief against the ever present heat of hellfire.  Sam shifts again, but it’s an aborted movement, torn between wanting to get away and needing to get closer.  He takes a deep breath, shuddering, half-hard, and mortified at his body’s response.  Lucifer grinds down and Sam bites his bottom lip to keep from making any noise. 

“Talk to me Sam,” Lucifer says roughly into his ear.

“What do you want?” Sam whispers back.

Lucifer laughs.  “What do I want?  I want out.  I want to remake the world.”

“Not happening,” Sam replies.

Lucifer bites down hard along Sam’s jaw.  “I’ll take this for now.”  He rolls his hips again causing a soft whimper to escape between ragged breaths.  “I want you to tell me you want this.”

Sam smiles and chuckles quietly.  “Why?  You’re going to do what you want anyway?”

“I’ve always needed your consent,” Lucifer tells him.  “Just say yes, Sam.  You’ve said yes before.  Eventually.”

“Not here,” Sam protests.  He looks over at Dean, shifting restlessly in his sleep on the other bed.  “Not now.”

Sam can feel Lucifer smile against his jaw.  “Are we going to play let’s make a deal again?”

“Once he leaves,” Sam says.  “I’ll tell him I’m not feeling good.  Dean will go try to hunt down some leads on his own.  Wait until then.”

“Stop trying to make me go away,” Lucifer counters.

“Stop trying to get me into trouble and making me think I’m crazy,” Sam bites back.

“Deal.”  Lucifer shifts backwards, letting Sam’s wrists go.  “You stop ignoring me and making me go away, I’ll behave.”

“Right,” Sam scoffs.  “You’ll behave.”  Sam brings his arms down and awkwardly moves around, searching for someplace to put them until Lucifer grabs them again and repositions his hands on Lucifer’s thighs.

“You don’t really want me to go away,” Lucifer tells him, smirking.  “You’d miss me.”

“You’re not real,” Sam argues, despite how solid he feels. 

“What if I am?” Lucifer says.

“You’re still in the cage.” 

Dean bolts upright with a grunt, breathing heavy.  Sam yanks his hands down until his palms are flat on the mattress on either side of him.  “Another dream about Castiel,” Lucifer says as he climbs off Sam’s lap.

“You ok?” Sam asks, knowing the answer’s _no_ and Dean’s going to answer _yes_ anyway.

“Fine,” Dean grunts, rubbing his face with his hands.“I’ll go get cleaned up and I’ll be out in a few.” Dean gets up, grabs some clothes from his duffle and heads for the bathroom without another word.The door lock clicks and Sam can hear the shower start to run.

“Alright, we’re talking again,” Sam says.  Lucifer’s sitting back in the crappy hotel chair, doing his best to feign comfort which is ridiculous because he’s not really there.  Sam shakes his head at how he has to keep reminding himself.  “What the hell am I supposed to do about that?”

“Why do you think you’re supposed to do anything?”

“He’s my brother,” Sam protests and then shakes his head again and smiles.  “Look at who I’m talking to.”

Lucifer doesn’t say anything.  Simply looks back at Sam with raised eyebrows.

“How do you know it’s Castiel?” Sam asks him.  “It could be Amy or Lisa and Ben or me going crazy.  It could be dreams about being back in Hell for all I know.”

“Right.”

Sam closes his eyes.  The room falls quiet except for the muffled sound of running water.  He works on clearing his head – a meditation technique he picked up trying to deal with the hallucinations.  It never worked in making them go away, but it makes him calmer.  He focuses on his breathing, mildly aware of when the sound of the shower stops and the bathroom door squeaks open. 

“Sammy?” Dean asks.  “You feeling ok?”

Sam opens his eyes, sees Lucifer sitting patiently and watching him.  He looks up at Dean, squinting for effect.  “Actually, I think I’m getting a migraine or something.”  He closes his eyes again.  “Mind if I sit this one out?”

Dean doesn’t answer right away and Sam can feel him staring.  “Migraine?  You don’t get migraines.”

“I’ve had a few,” Sam tells him.  “I don’t get them often.” 

Dean goes quiet again, but Sam hears the shuffling sound of him moving around and when he blinks his eyes open again Dean’s got his shoes on and is pulling his jacket on.  “No problem,” Dean says.  “Want me to bring anything back?”

“No,” Sam answers before closing his eyes again.  He hears the door shut, but stays where he is – intending to give Dean a couple of minutes start when he feels Lucifer climb on top of him again.  His eyes fly open.  “Wait.”

“For what?”

“What if he doubles back?”

“I’ve bolted the door,” Lucifer says, working on unbuttoning Sam’s shirt.  “I was patient.  I behaved.”

Sam smiles because for all his fierce reputation and bad temper, sometimes dealing with Lucifer is very much like dealing with a spoiled child.  “I know.”

“Tell me you want this,” Lucifer orders with a tone bordering on petulant. 

Sam grabs his thighs again, flips them on the bed and wrestles Lucifer’s arms back until he’s the one pinned down.  “Make me,” Sam teases.

Lucifer huffs before an arrogant, cock-sure smile spreads across his face.  He relaxes underneath Sam, legs spreading ever so wider and when he speaks again his voice has taken on a deep seductive tone.  “You want me to _make you_?  Should I flip you over and hold you down while I touch you until you’re squirming again.  Nibble on your ear.  Your neck.  Your chest.  Your cock.  Mark every single inch of your skin with my teeth and nails.  Bruising fingerprints on your hips when I take you.  I’ll hold you down until you’re begging me and you’re so far gone you don’t know whether you’re begging me to stop or to never stop.”

Sam feels light headed as blood rushes south.  He presses Lucifer into the bed more, gasping when their erections slide against each other, warm and throbbing pressure through layers of denim and cloth. 

 Lucifer uses the distraction to make good on flipping Sam over and smiles triumphantly.  He licks his lips as he surveys the body beneath him.  Sam bucks up against him and Lucifer backs off, settling back until he’s sitting on Sam once again.  “Oh no you don’t.  You made me wait.”  He rips Sam’s shirt open, sending buttons flying in every direction.  “We’re going to take our time.”

Lucifer unsnaps Sam’s jeans and tugs them down his hips along with his underwear.  “You look wonton,” Lucifer crows.  “You’re lips are bruised and I haven’t even kissed you yet.”  He takes off Sam’s shoes and socks before finishing with his pants. 

Sam leverages himself up enough to finish taking off his own wrecked shirt.  “You keeping your clothes on?”

“Feel free to take them off,” Lucifer tells him.  He makes his way up Sam’s body, lightly tracing the soft inside of his thighs on the way.  Sam’s breathing speeds up the closer Lucifer gets to his dick, then he lets out a frustrated huff when Lucifer bypasses that region altogether to trace invisible patterns along his abs and chest. 

“You’re being a tease.  You’re not real and you’re being a tease,” Sam complains.  “How is that even possible?”

Lucifer pinches his nipple in retaliation and the pain signal crosses with pleasure causing Sam to arch and gasp.  “You haven’t even started fully participating yet and you expect me to rush things?  Patience Sam.  We have all afternoon.”  Lucifer surveys him like Sam’s a particularly interesting toy he wants to test out.  “I think I want to tie you up.”

Sam whimpers.  “There’s a belt and some ties in my bag,” he volunteers, flushing and pointedly not looking at Lucifer, instead staring at the watermarks on the ceiling. 

Lucifer leans down until Sam has no choice but to look at him – look into his eyes.  “Tell me you want this,” he orders more firmly.

Sam swallows and whispers “yes” so softly he might as well be mouthing the word. 

Lucifer claims Sam’s mouth, kissing him roughly as he grabs Sam’s hair in one hand and yanks hard until Sam has no choice but to arch back, giving Lucifer access to the bare line of his throat which he mouths his way down, skimming lightly with his teeth until he gets to the base where he sucks hard.  Sam grips desperately at the bedding and his whole body tries to come off the mattress only to be held firmly down by Lucifer’s other hand on his chest.  Lucifer stops sucking to laugh against Sam’s skin.  “Tell me,” Lucifer orders again.

“Yes,” Sam says louder.  “Yes.”

“Full sentence while you can still manage.”

“I want this,” Sam says and then moans when Lucifer resumes working at the mark he’s creating.  “I want you,” he gasps, writhing and trying to get more contact.  More friction.  “I want…,” he starts to say, but is startled when Lucifer abruptly gets up.  He’s going to start protesting when he turns his head to see Lucifer rifling through his things and pulling out the belt and ties he told him about. 

Sam’s moves his hand towards his cock when Lucifer growls, “Touch yourself and I’ll whip you with this belt so hard you won’t be able to sit down for days.”

Sam groans and leverages himself up onto his elbows.  “Well then, get back over here,” he says.

“You're so pushy,” Lucifer mock-complains, grinning as he comes back to the bed.  “Turn around on the bed so I can strap you to the bedposts.  Face up.” 

Sam obeys, repositioning himself on the bed until he’s lying down with his head on a pillow and his arms stretched out like an obscene sacrifice.  It’s a fantasy, he tells himself and tries not to analyze it any further.  People have all sorts of weird fantasies they don’t tell anyone else about.  So what if his seem a little weirder now, he’s been through a lot.

Lucifer cracks the belt.  “Stop thinking and open your mouth,” he tells him.  Sam follows along as Lucifer doubles the belt, and pries Sam’s mouth further open with his thumb.  Sam darts the tip of his tongue against the pad of his thumb before Lucifer puts the belt into Sam’s mouth.  “Bite down,” he says before taking the ties Sam uses to impersonate FBI agents and using them to tie Sam’s hands against the wooden posts framing the headboard of the small double bed.  Lucifer gets off the mattress again and goes to stand at the foot of the bed where he grabs Sam’s feet and yanks him down until the stretch in Sam’s arms borders on uncomfortable and he’s sprawled across the middle of the bed with his feet hanging off the end just shy of touching the floor.  “That’s better.”

Sam tests his bonds, but they’re firm with little give.  He can only rotate his hands just enough to grip onto the wood of the bedposts with his fingertips.  The earthy taste of the leather makes his mouth start to water. 

“You know what else I found in your bag, Sam?” Lucifer asks, climbing onto the bed and straddling Sam’s legs.  He holds up a little black bottle that causes Sam to blush scarlet.  “We didn’t have this little luxury before, did we?”  Lucifer shakes the bottle slightly in demonstration and then leans over Sam to set the bottle of lube on the nightstand. 

Sam closes his eyes and remembers being faced down, stretched out.  He remembers everything always burning, always so hot that every little relief felt like the best pleasure possible and Lucifer the only reprieve.  Coolness draped over him head to toe.  Wings spread out on either side.  Driving inside him relentlessly.  Pleasure offset like starbursts against the darkness of Hell.  Sam bites down harder on the belt and moans. 

“Come back to me,” Lucifer commands and Sam opens his eyes, blinking and feeling dizzy already.  “Here and now.  Stay with me.”  He scratches hard down Sam’s flanks with blunt fingernails, bringing Sam’s conscious fully into the present.  The air around Lucifer still feels so cool and Sam’s burning from the inside out again.  Lucifer dips down to bite at Sam’s chest.  “I’m going to prove to you that I’m real one way or another.”  He alternates with a sharp suck that Sam’s sure will bruise a deep purple. 

Sam moans and gasps against his gag, mouth watering so much he’s practically choking on his saliva.  Lucifer reaches up and removes to belt from his mouth so he can cough and catch his breath again.  Lucifer wipes at the sides of his mouth, hushing Sam until he quiets.  “I need…” Sam starts, but then looses track of his thought when Lucifer starts placing open mouth kisses down the side of his neck.

“Tell me,” Lucifer whispers. 

“Shirt,” Sam says, grasping for words.  “Shirt off.”

Lucifer kisses Sam gently, almost platonically on his cheek before sitting back and discarding not one shirt, but two.  “What about the rest?”

“Leave them on,” Sam decides to Lucifer’s obvious amusement. 

“What else?”

“What?” Sam asked exasperated.  “What do you mean what else?”

“What do you want me to do to you?”

“You are the most frustrating…” Sam starts complaining.  “You’re ruining the mood.”

Lucifer laughs.  “I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not,” Sam yells.  “You’re an infuriating and maddening pain in the ass, but you’re never sorry.”

“I’m being cooperative,” Lucifer drawls mockingly.  “I’m behaving myself.  Just tell me what you want.”

“You’re only behaving yourself now to drive me up the wall,” Sam said, pulling against the cloth binding his wrists.

“So you don’t want me to only do whatever you say?” Lucifer asks.

“Yes,” Sam huffs and pulls at the cloth again.  He’s probably going to have to get new ties after stretching out the fabric like this.  “Let me up.”

“No.”

“No?” Sam asks.

“You said you didn’t want me to listen to you.”

Sam smirks at him and then growls, “Then don’t let me up.”

“Alright.”

“You’re listening to me now?”

“I want to.  You see I have this little thing called free will,” Lucifer says sarcastically.  “Daddy didn’t want to give it to me at first, but then I went and took it for myself.  Or maybe you’re just hallucinating me as uncooperative.”

“That would mean I’m hallucinating you as you,” Sam argues.

“So you want me here?  So badly you’re seeing me where I’m not actually there?” Lucifer asks.  “Not cooperative me, not fantasy me?  Just ‘me’ me?”

Sam bites his tongue and pouts.  “Or maybe you’re not a hallucination after all.”

Lucifer smiles and then lowers himself down on Sam so their chests are barely an inch apart, supporting himself with his forearms braced on either side.  He looks him directly in the eyes and Sam can feel Lucifer’s breath on his face when he speaks.  “What a choice that is,” he says.  “Either I’m such a part of your very soul Sammy that no matter how we’re separated I’ll always be with you _or_ you miss me and want me back.  Not redeemed or fixed or even as a two-dimensional fantasy figure, but just as I am.  Which do you think is the lesser of two evils?”

Sam glowers at him, but Lucifer’s gaze never wavers. 

Lucifer pulls the knots binding Sam’s wrists just so and he’s instantly free.   Without thinking Sam surges up, grabbing Lucifer around the waist and pulling him in closer until they’re all skin against skin where the heat inside of Sam can bleed directly into Lucifer’s coolness. 

Lucifer laughs and Sam tries to silence him with a brutal, biting kiss.  Lucifer’s pliant for all of a minute before he’s wrapping his arms tightly around Sam’s neck, carding his fingers into Sam’s hair and fighting for control.  Sam opens his mouth and Lucifer deepens the kiss, taking every opportunity to slip in further.  Sam runs his hands up and down Lucifer’s torso, suddenly frustrated that he’s still wearing jeans.  Sam’s tongue pushes against Lucifer’s in a rhythmic dance that mirror’s the way their bodies move against each other, but the cloth’s rough against his skin. 

Sam wedges a hand in between them and tugs at the fly of the jeans until they give with a soft pop and pushes Lucifer back and down so he can get the damn things off.

“Change your mind?” Lucifer asks, grinning. 

“Yes,” Sam replies while pulling off shoes, socks and the offending garment as fast and rough as possible. 

“Good.”  Lucifer cooperates by lifting his hips and shifting his weight whenever possible.  When Sam’s finished, Lucifer reaches out his right hand towards him.  “Come here.”

Sam laces his fingers through Lucifer’s hand and pulls him back onto his lap instead of following blindly.  He revels for a moment at how good it feels to be skin against skin.  Lucifer’s lips twitch like he’s fighting the urge to laugh again.

“Shut up,” Sam says preemptively, then lets his hand go and seals Lucifer’s mouth with a kiss, fed up with whatever fucked up game they’re playing and determined to get something out of an afternoon trapped in a dingy hotel room that he’s been maneuvered into by his own hallucination.  He fumbles blindly for the little black bottle on the nightstand, pops it open and worms his hand between their bodies to slick himself up.

Lucifer breaks the kiss.  “What?  No more foreplay.”

“I’ve had enough,” Sam tells him as he’s manhandling him up and positioning his dick at Lucifer’s entrance.  Sam moans, mouth against Lucifer's shoulder as Lucifer pushes down on him, tight, throbbing and welcoming.  It feels like perfect, sweet relief.  It feels a little like coming home.

“Look at me,” Lucifer says.  Sam obeys and is mildly surprised to not find a teasing glint in the other man’s eyes or a smile playing at his lips.  Instead Lucifer stares back into Sam’s eyes with determination – like Sam holds the answer to some unnamable question.  Then he starts moving his hips, rocking them slowly until Sam’s thrusting up against him. 

Sam puts his hands on Lucifer’s hips, pulling him down harder and guiding their movements into a furiously heated rhythm.

“Remember when I was inside of you?” Lucifer says.  “Really inside of you, back when you were so angry all the time and so determined to stop me.”

Sam remembers standing looking in a cracked mirror and seeing Lucifer staring back at him through his own eyes.  Or maybe it was the other way around. 

“I tried to tell you then that we belonged together.  We would always belong together,” Lucifer tells him even as the tempo of their bodies increases.  “We still do.”

“I did stop you,” Sam says between moans and flushed with pleasure.

“Two halves of the same whole, Sam,” Lucifer replies.  “Nothing will ever feel as good as this.  Nothing will ever feel as right as when we’re one.”

Sam slams harder into him.  “I don’t…”

“This feels good, doesn’t it,” Lucifer says, meeting his brutal thrusts.

“Yes,” Sam gasps.

“Right?”

“Yes.”

“We belong like this.”

“Yes.”

“Let me in.”

“Yes,” Sam says, lost to sensation. 

The room gets brighter.  Lucifer gets brighter, shining so brilliantly that Sam has to shut his eyes, but the light doesn’t go away.  Instead it increases inside of him until he feels it shooting up his spine and down his limbs.  It merges with that fire already within him until it no longer burns, but instead fills him with a wholeness and peace he’s wished for all of his life. 

When Sam opens his eyes again, he’s alone on the bed. 

The bathroom door creaks open and Sam hears the shower start to run.  He crawls out of the bed and pads into the other room, already fogged with steam. The water feels perfect against his skin. 

Sam doesn't see Lucifer again, but he feels him close.  He finishes washing up and has enough time to straighten the room before Dean returns with news of their latest hunt. 

It isn't until they're catching dinner at some greasy dive that Dean makes an off-the-cuff joke about the hickey on Sam's throat.

"If you needed some alone time with some chick, you could have just said so," Dean complains. 

Lucifer chooses then to reappear, sitting in the booth next to Dean and smiling benevolently.  "Told you so," he says.


End file.
